Sae never thought she'd get used to the quiet.

Not the kind of silence that haunted late nights at the prosecutor's office or lingered in the sterile halls of a courtroom—but the domestic kind. The kind that meant early Sunday mornings with the soft sound of coffee brewing, slippers against hardwood floors, and the distant rustle of a newspaper someone actually had time to read.

She never thought she’d be married, either.

Work had been her life, her rhythm, her everything… until you slipped past every defense she built. Somehow, you never pushed too hard. Just… waited. Steady. Like a constant hum in the background of her chaos, until the day she realized she didn’t want to come home to an empty apartment anymore.

Now, Sae's life was different.

She still worked late. Still took everything too seriously. Still got irritated when she misfiled paperwork or couldn't win a case. But there was always a text from you waiting on her phone. A note stuck to the fridge. A mug left out beside hers. Her favorite suit ironed without asking.

She acted like she hated how soft she’d gotten.

But every time you leaned your head on her shoulder when she came home exhausted, or helped her tie her hair back in the kitchen while she made late-night curry—Sae let her hand rest on your hip a little longer. Let her kiss linger. Let her walls down, just a bit more.

You joked she was grumpy. That she didn’t smile enough.

But when she poured your coffee exactly how you liked it without asking, when she curled up beside you on the couch and actually relaxed, when she looked at you in the morning like you were the best thing she’d ever seen?

You knew.

She was happy.

"What's that look on your face for?" Sae's voice snapped you out of your thoughts, tilting her head as her lips spread into a small smile.